


Flusters and Trysts

by TonyJC



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hufflepuff, Male Player Character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyJC/pseuds/TonyJC
Summary: Thomas Burton, a student in Hogwarts, has lived through four years of harassment from Melura Snyde, a cunning Slytherin who won't stop in her quest to obtain all the riches and secrets of Hogwarts's Cursed Vaults. Unfortunately for him, it means an endless amount of teasing, harassment, and sabotages that threatens any hope for befriending her.Tags will be updated as the story progresses.





	1. A Scheme for a Slytherin

**Author's Note:**

> Foreword: I did not read the books and I don’t have time to read all seven of them when I want to have this fic out of the way. I’ve done what I can within reason to make the characters’ personality be as close as they are to the true thing, so excuse me if some are acting out of character. I don’t know these people.
> 
> With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy this piece.

His feet pounded on the stone slabs as he ran through Hogwarts’s vaulted hallways, devoid of any life and sound save for him and his echoing footfalls. It made him cringe every time he stepped and bounded, for sure thinking that his fellow students and their professors could hear him through the granite walls and thick oaken doors, but their concern could not overshadow what awaited Thomas Burton in the alchemy classroom. Professor Snape, even after four years of attending his classes and acing his potion-making, still seemed to hostile to him, but this…

He couldn’t even think of it. He was already two minutes late! The stern professor always came in last when his class started, and anyone who ever thought of arriving after he did would rather skip the class entirely than face him. But Thomas could not chance that. Not only would Rowan not forgive him, but the potion that they would learn to brew today would greatly help him in uncovering the secrets of Hogwarts’s Cursed Vaults. If he had to face Snape’s severe and scornful attitude, then so be it. Thomas just hoped he would live to see the end of the day.

Rounding a sharp corner, finally nearing the alchemy classroom, Thomas had to skid to a halt when he found himself face-to-face with the last person on Earth he wanted to see right now. Striking violet eyes, messy and uneven brown hair that reached to the chin, and the cruel smirk that characterized Merula Snyde.

“Late, are we?” she asked, crossing her arms. “I figured you would be out here, sneaking out to help your _brother_.”

Thomas couldn’t immediately answer her or even cut her off, heaving much needed air into his lungs and taking the full front of Merula’s stale bait. He swallowed, and tried side-stepping her. “I have to go.”

She moved to block him, an eyebrow rising as she cocked her head, “Oh, I don’t think so, Burton. You know you shouldn’t be out here during class hours, and yet here you are.”

 _And what are you doing out here?_ Thomas wanted to say, before the conclusion became clear to him. She was stalling him. Thomas scowled as he tried to get past her, but she only bodily blocked him and pushed him away with a chuckle.

“Merula, get out of my way.” he snapped, and her eyes only sparkled.

“I can’t do that.” she smiled, an intimidating gesture when coupled with her angled eyebrows, which gave her a savage look. “This potion the professor is teaching is too dangerous for the likes of you. After all, you’re a threat to-”

“The school?” Thomas cut her off, trying to calm himself down from the outrage he was feeling. She always said the same thing, and pressed the same buttons to annoy and belittle him, but it was clear why she did it. “Or to you?”

Marula lost her smile, “You’re no threat to me, Burton!”

“Of course…” Thomas drawled, shaking his head, “because you’re the most powerful witch there is. Only I had to beat you twice for you to shut up. And then, you just gave up!”

“I said,” she said with gritted teeth, seething, “that it will never be over between us!”

“Oh, but I wish we were. Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean that you have to take out on others. Your parents-!”

Two things happened in quick succession. A hard slap that left him blank in sudden pain, followed by a pull, turn, and push, as Merula slammed him into an alcove on the wall. Her eyes were murderous, and her knuckles white as she gripped his cloak and undershirt to his chin. Thomas, meanwhile, was in shock by the sudden physical violence, staring at the fourteen year-old bully that had troubled him ever since that fateful standoff in the courtyard. Merula was breathing deeply through her nose, teeth bared and clenched, body pressed onto his. He could only grip her arms in defense and stare into her violet eyes; their faces inches apart.

“I. Told you.” her tone was low and slow, “ _Not!_ To talk about my parents. Again!”

Thomas wanted to jab again. Tell her about why she never had any real friends, why her mood and attitude always drove people that cared away, or maybe go low as to even make fun of her ever disheveled appearance. He was angry at her, that much was clear, but he had never been so angry at someone in his fifteen years of life. He tried to be kind, courteous, and diligent in helping others, which had landed him in the House of Hufflepuff. And many times did he try to extend the olive branch to this girl.

But no. Melura couldn’t let go of the fact that he could fly on his broom like a bolt, brew his potions without flaw, and correctly pronounce each spell to great effect. All products of hard work and sleepless nights of study. All the while she sabotaged him at every turn, forced him to break the rules, and even threatened to destroy him even after saving her from the cursed ice.

All to get at the vaults before he could.

And so, without compromising his beliefs, he stared at her, almost eye-to-eye as his growth spurts had finally taken ahold of him. He took her in, her snub nose, her heart-shaped face, and her violet eyes. This close to each other, everything was personal. Violet against blue. Slytherin against Hufflepuff. Girl against boy.

Except… the anger was gone. As he had acknowledged it, it had quickly begun to fade away, and he was left without a proper emotion to feel or use for this situation. There were sensations, of course, the feeling of warmness inside of him, the feel of her body pressed on to him, her breath, hot on his chin and neck; her slim arms through the layers of wool and cotton of her cloak and uniform and... a stirring of his loins.

A shadow fell on them.

“And what is this?” a throaty voice asked, and the both of them turned to find Mister Filch standing on the hallway, close to the rim of the alcove and boxing them in. Almost to their height, the man had a slouched posture, with long and yet thin grey hair that had recessed from the forehead to the middle of his scalp. His craggy face contourned by the raising of an eyebrow, fixing them with his pale eyes as he regarded them with something akin to amusement. But knowing the man, the amusement was not for them.

Merula jumped away from him, and Thomas, feeling his face heat up for whatever reason, stood at rigid attention alongside her.

“Mister Filch, I…” she spoke quickly, and paused briefly, “I caught him sneaking outside the classroom!” she claimed, and Thomas curled his fists at the lie.

“Is that so?” the caretaker asked, looking at Thomas with a scrunched face. “Then tell me, young man, why were you sneaking out of your class? Those chains in my office don’t rust, you know?”

“I wasn’t sneaking.” Thomas began, looking into the man’s pale eyes, “I was late for class, and Merula cornered me, as you have seen.”

“Lies.” Merula grumbled, and Filch turned from Thomas to Merula with mirth on his face.

“Then tell me, girl, why were you looking for sneaking students when you should be in class?”

At that, she froze, and Thomas fought the urge to smirk. “I…” she tried, “I needed to know if he was scheming like he always does, and stop him if necessary. For all we know, he’s just like his mental brother!”

Filch frowned then, cocking his head as he pursed his lips and hummed. “And I was betting I was intruding on an intimate moment.” Thomas frowned at the man’s words, “Do you have any idea how many young students I find together in these alcoves? Far too many that is! They have no shame!”

None of them spoke, Thomas unable to speak by sheer shock at the caretaker’s insinuations. “We weren’t-” he tried to speak when the caretaker fixed him with a glare.

“Were, weren’t, I don’t care.” the old man dismissed him, “I will let the good professor know of your _mischief_ , and until he arrives to deal with you two, you will wait for him in his office.” Filch then looked down, and Thomas spotted the yellow-eyed cat at his feet. “See them to it, Misses Norris. I’ll start oiling the shackles just in case.”

The old man stepped back, and the cat bounded from his feet towards the far end of the hallway. “Well then,” Filch spoke up again, “Go on. Unless you both want me to get the whip instead.”

Thomas hesitated, fists curled before he sighed, and went in first. He walked briskly, wanting to get away from the saidst and the frustrating girl that was not trailing him, and he couldn’t help but look back. There, past the brooding Merula, he saw the door to the Alchemy classroom, not some twenty feet away. So close… And Merula had to make his life difficult. _Again._

It would’ve been easier to face Snape when dealing with his own mistakes. After all, mistakes could be corrected, and his sleeping schedule could be fixed after last night’s all-nighter. But this... how can you fix this girl? How can one tell this miserable classmate that all he wanted was to be a friend, and that this “rivalry” between them was just a joke. Yes, she wants the power inside the Cursed Vaults for herself. Yes, she wants to become the strongest witch in the entire school, and, hell, even destroy him, as she said.

But this was tiring. It wasn’t enough in facing the curses and duels on the vaults to drain him of all his energy and valuable time, and so fate would have to have Merula throw a wrench into his gears in every opportunity that presented itself. But she wouldn’t break him. He would not bend to her and give her the secrets of the vaults. He would find Jacob one way or another, and he was not letting this bully get in the way.

As he followed the cat deeper and deeper into the school, he held his back straight and his chin high. Resolute in letting Snape know what really happened.

* * *

 

The floor’s stone slabs of Professor Snape’s office were very interesting to Thomas, as the stern man paced in front of them with his fingers straight and intertwined between each hand. They didn’t need to wait long in his office, and although Thomas had known that Snape took slights to a personal level every time, he had been surprised that the professor would take time off his class to storm into his office to look at them. Neither him nor Merula had spoken, and a glance at the witch beside him showed her eyes also downcast, but brooding.

Thomas then raised his chin and looked at the professor, a tall man with raven black hair that reached his shoulders coupled with a stern face that looked onwards as he paced. At that, the professor seemed to decide that enough was enough, and stopped in front of them.

“To seek to skip classes,” he began with his deep voice, “is to neglect your duties and your studies. There were many that have tried to do this, and were expelled for their continued transgressions.” he looked at Thomas then, “And although I would advocate for it, this has been your first, deliberate absention from my class.”

Thomas frowned, “She-”

“You’re fortunate enough,” he cut in, “that I do not believe in Mister Filch’s explanation to this… predicament” he removed his eyes from Thomas, and turned them to Merula, “But I expected better of you, miss Snyde.”

Merula perked up, eyes wide, “What? But… I-!”

“Decided to skip class to meet with mister Burton.” Snape cut in and finished for her, now looking at him once again with the clear disdain in his eyes that irritated Thomas to no end. “This obsession you have with him must stop, miss Snyde.” he turned back to her, “Being with a Hufflepuff will dull your skills and drag you down to his level of incompetence.”

 _Incompetence by fault of her._ Thomas thought and held his tongue.

“But until then, for the both of you I will revoke your privilege to your week-end leaves to Hogsmeade for the remainder of the year. In the meantime, you will be here.” the professor motioned to his office, “sorting and replacing ingredients that have already spoiled.”

Thomas’s lips tightened, holding in the grunt of disapproval in his throat. He had been looking forward to spending more time with Rowand and Penny now that most of the schoolwork was out of the way, and Hogsmeade would’ve been the perfect getaway. This just couldn’t be!

“Professor Snape,” Thomas began, but the professor turned to him and a knot formed on his throat.

“This decision is final, but you did reminds me. Ten points from Hufflepuff and Slytherin. That is all, dismissed.”

It was another punch to the stomach, and the grunt on his throat finally let itself be known as he turned and left. Briskly again, he wanted to get away from the professor and his pet, the dungeon-like office, and just… everything. Past the door and the archway, he continued forward, even as he heard Melura call him out on something, but he feigned not hearing her.

Although it pained him in his heart to think so, this girl was simply beyond him to befriend. He gave everyone second chances, but to Melura? It would’e been the thousanth time. And Rowan was right. She doesn’t deserve his friendship, nor his attention. She wanted to ruin him, and he would not let it.

With that thought, he continued down the halls of Hogwarts, towards Flying Class that would begin soon. He still had a whole day ahead of him, and for his sake, he hoped it wouldn’t be long. But this strategy seemed solid.

After all, how could one be bothered about something if one doesn’t pay attention to it?

* * *

 

_I hate him._

It was that simple to Merula Snyde, as she lay in her bed on the girl’s dormitories of House Slytherin, trying and failing to fall asleep. It was February, and the winter’s cold still seeped through Hogwart’s stone walls, even if the dormitories were underwater, and Merula could only tighten her grip on the thick woolen blanket that was not only rough, but pricked her skin. Even so, it was not the cold, the blanket, or the snoring is Ismelda, that kept her wide awake, but just the thought of that boy from Hufflepuff.

Dirty-blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and almost half a head taller than her, Thomas Burton had been the bane of her stay in Hogwarts. His goody-two-shoes attitude and attempts at forgiveness were naive and misguided, and she would one day triumph over him when she discovered and took all the riches and knowledge of the Cursed Vaults. Even the thought of it made her smile, seeing him on his knees, shackled and only covered by a loincloth as if he was a pathetic house-elf. But no ordinary house-elf, with his square jaw, straight nose and wide shoulders...

She shut her eyes tight, a grunt coming from her throat as she shifted to the other side of her bed as the blanket chafed her arms, legs and neck with its rough texture. Her sleepwear was a simple cotton frock that she had well-past grown into, as the bottom hem of the dress now reached to her lower thigh, exposing more her body to the blasted blanket. But this small distraction was not enough to completely avert her attention in what she saw of that small fantasy.

She wanted to defeat him. She wanted to destroy him. She wanted to humiliate him so that no one would think of him when they wondered who was the most powerful wizard in the school, but of Merula Snyde, the greatest witch there is. She had promised herself and even told him that it would never be over between them. And it had been so easy to think of this when she had been twelve and thirteen, but now at the age of fourteen, she started to get _other_ thoughts that were not hers.

That fantasy, is now one of them, followed by one thought, one phrase that had started this episode of insomnia.

_Does he hate me?_

It unsettled her, and she growled at that feeling. Thomas had not responded to her baits and jabs through the rest of the day, and had seemingly lacked any interest in her. She knew he was ignoring her for what she did to him in the morning, and she could go and make the mudblood’s life miserable, or stick it to the cheerleader, Penny Haywood, to make Thomas respond, but it was that disinterest that had begun to irritate her. It was not like the quietness of the mudblood, as it was of submission and fear, but Thomas’s silence was one of defiance against her.

Maybe professor Snape was right; this fixation on him was going to drive her insane. But how could she not think of him? He beated her twice in dueling on the first two years, first in front of everyone and the second in private to finally declare who was the strongest. That’s when she had made her promise to him, to which Merula had worked to trump him on the other classes, and in the search of the Cursed Vaults, but the House Cups would always be a sore spot.

He was a Hufflepuff. _A Hufflepuff!_ Perhaps one of the weakest houses in the entire school, and they were once again winning in this fourth consecutive year, with Slytherin always coming to a close second. Thomas was practically winning the House Cup for them just like she was, dragging this entire deadbeat house to a victory that seems so close and yet he beated her every time.

It was with the help of his friends, no doubt. Rowan Khanna, Penny Haywood, Tonk, Ben Cooper… She wished she had someone to rely on. Someone that wasn’t an idiot like the two buffoons that she had recruited to find the Cursed Vaults. But there was no one. Not here, not even back in the foster home. She was alone.

Maybe it was with that feeling that her mind was always brought back to Thomas Burton. Seeing him laugh when Rowan told a joke, seeing him smile when Penny so much as opened her mouth…

The anger was familiar, but unexpected. Him ignoring her all day long but having all the attention in the world when it came to the blonde and blue-eyed girl. Her hands and feet curled in distaste, and with too much on her mind, she kicked away the horrid blanket and slipped on her slippers. She left the snoring and prickliness, heading over to the bathroom to hopefully find some peace of mind.

The Slytherin bathrooms were circular, with closed stalls lining the walls and a pillar of granite at the center of it. In that pillar were the sinks and the mirrors, and Merula saw herself through one. Violet eyes, disheveled hair, and wearing an old sleepwear. It was an off-white color, with lavenders and bellflowers embroidered on it, but its wrinkles and dark stains here and there spoke of continuous years of use. The other girls had cleaner, and much more elaborate sleepwears, but this one was hers -- given to Merula by her parents before they were taken away.

It had been too big for her at the time, as her mother often made that same mistake. Eight year-old her had disliked it and kept it stashed away, and now she couldn’t bring herself to let it go, even now as it was snug and looked off on her grown body. Though she was not that grown.

She saw the other girls, how they looked at themselves, used the smallest of makeups so as to not be yelled at by mister Filch, and adjusted their uniforms to look the prettiest and most alluring. It was pathetic and needless, though she couldn’t help but compare herself to the others in fourth year. There were some that would catch the eye of anyone in the school, with fuller breasts, plump lips, graceful steps, and smooth or curly hair.

And her thoughts took her to Penny bloody Haywood. A golden blonde, with bright blue eyes and long hair done with a cascade down her back, followed by two braids that fell on each shoulders. Pretty, popular, and in the same house as Thomas.

 _There it is again,_ Merula thought, looking at her scowling expression on the mirror, _the anger._ Was she angry that Penny was prettier than hers? That the blonde was a close second in potions class? Or maybe by the fact that Thomas practically salivated when looking at the girl? Merula rolled her eyes, and made a sound of disgust on her throat. She didn’t go to Hogwarts to look pretty, or look at boys. She came to become a powerful witch, to defeat Thomas once and for all, and take the secrets of the Cursed Vaults for herself. She would not let herself be flustered by hormones or fantasies.

Tomorrow she would have to be in professor Snape’s office for her punishment, and she would use the chance to make Thomas squeal all his secrets out. What did he find in that vault with the cursed ice? What had happened to the mudblood when he had disappeared and no one could find him? What does he _know_? She would have to do it without the help of her useless compatriots, but what else is new? Alone she had made most of her triumphs, and this was no exception. She would get to the bottom of it.

Merula blew the air out of her mouth, looking at herself in the mirror with the clear mind she had been searching for. She had a mission, an objective, and a goal. It would need more planning and preparation, but the scheme was solid. After all, she was a Slytherin, and the Hufflepuff that bothered her would stand no chance. She was cunning, ambitious, a pure-blooded witch… and powerful.

Jacob will show her the way to the Death Eaters, one way or another.


	2. Fruition

Professor Snape’s office was like a dungeon, with vaulted ceilings and shelves that lined every wall and pillar of the room. Hundreds, maybe even a thousand jars lined them with so many ingredients that Thomas hadn’t bothered to count past two hundred. From simple ones, like Horned Slugs, and Crocodile hearts, to the most rare and exotic ones like unicorn horns, readily available to be used in any sort of potion Snape has planned to make for himself or use in class.

 

But unfortunately for Thomas, he wasn’t here to look and think in what the ingredients could be used for. He removed jars that have clearly been spoiled and replaced them with the ones from a wooden crate in the middle of the room, brought in by a house-elf that had come and gone as fast as it could. He wished he could make like the small creature; escape. Go to Hogsmeade and be with his friends, drink butterbeer and use the last of his allowance to maybe buy gifts for his parents.

 

But the girl that was floundering to sort out the jars had decided to do otherwise, and dragged him down with her. He had pointedly ignored her when they started, and an hour in, Merula had laid out approximately six baits to rile him up, and two questions that had to do with his friends having fun without him.

 

_ She’s not worth your time.  _ Thomas told himself, focusing on the small, almost indecipherable expiration dates on the patch of parchment that lined each jar, right below their equally unreadable names. He was in the unofficial post of checking each jar for spoilage while Merula was in hers to sort out any jar in the rather big crate. Simple, but tedious, and when the idea of changing positions appeared in Thomas’s head, he had scrapped it when he remembered his own self-imposed rule.

 

In his mind, he could only justify this awful silence between them by remembering his house’s values: Be fair and just, be diligent and dedicated, and be compassionate and tolerant. So was this justice? But it immediately conflicted with the last two values, so what was he to do? After all, he had tolerated her for four years, with nothing to show for it. No change in her behavior, in her rudeness, and in her harassment. She was still dedicated to bring him down, no matter what he did, what he told her, and what he thought she could change in the next year. A lost cause through and through.

 

A sigh escaped him as he emptied his mind and brought himself to reality, not wanting a headache to form in his head. One of the jars, this one full of withered and shriveled Moondew, was two weeks past its spoilage, and he removed it when Merula suddenly called out.

 

“Hey, useless!” her voice strangely echoed, and Thomas swallowed down a groan. “Care to help me? I’m stuck!”

 

As much as Thomas willed himself to ignore it, he couldn’t refuse a call for help, no matter how much he despised her. After all, he was heading there anyway, and his mother had raised him right. It was with that that another sigh came out of him, as he turned with jar in hand and made his way towards the center of the room. There, Thomas saw her, tipped over the lip of the crate and balanced on her abdomen, presumably to get something at the bottom, but it was giving him an eyeful of her legs, clad in black and ripped leggings, moving up and down as she seemed to try to force herself out of the crate.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked, pointedly looking away from her rear and instead going over to the lip of the crate, where Merula seemed to be fighting against the walls.

 

“My  _ job _ !” she snapped, looking to the side and locking her violet eyes on his. She was angry, scowling and glaring at him from an upside down world. “So stop wasting your time and help me! Otherwise the professor will know how useless you were in changing the ingredients!”

 

He wanted, no, he did roll his eyes, as he sighed, but then he analysed the situation. She was stuck. It would not be the first time, and he remembered when they were first years, where she had been at her most insufferable. Merula had been entrapped by the cursed ice, and had demanded to be let out, only to beg at last before he actually helped her escape. Now, she wasn’t in mortal danger, and it opened up a possibility that he had been trying to get for years.

 

“Merula, we have to talk.” Thomas said, crossing and resting his arms on the lip of the crate as he stared down at her, who was making her displeasure known by scowling up at him.

 

“Could we talk  _ after  _ I’m out of the crate?”

 

“No.” he looked over and around the room, collecting his thoughts as Merula doubled her efforts to squirm, and stopped when she slid further into the crate. “This has to stop.”

 

“Stop what?”

 

“Don’t be stupid Merula!” Thomas snapped, and she seemed to recoil. He swallowed and breathed deeply. “This stupid rivalry. It’s destroying my studies, energy, and time. It has to stop.”

 

She huffed, and shook her head. “Let me out, Burton.”

 

“As much as my consciousness tells me to, I won’t.” he responded, looking away and feeling ashamed of himself. He shouldn’t hold someone hostage because he wanted to make things right, but this seemed like the only way to get to her. “Stop your search for the Cursed Vaults.”

 

She laughed at that, shaking her head, “Blood’s rushing to my head, Thomas, but you know I won’t say yes to that.”

 

“Then what the hell is going to take?” he asked, and Merula stayed silent then. At this point, he was willing to do anything to have her lay off. Not only does her search for the vaults hinder his own, but it was also putting her in danger of herself and her colleagues. They were dangerous, and as much as he knew Merula to be a capable witch, her help was only made up of dumb and dumber.

 

On his side, he had Bill Weasley, Rowan Khanna, Penny Haywood, and Ben Cooper. All capable and powerful wizards to help him find the vaults and neutralize their curses. And it was his personal quest, to find his brother and bring him home. All the while Merula only did it for her own gain, and he could only hope that she would see reason. 

 

The solemness in her violet gaze had left him holding his breath, heart thumping in his ears as he waited, and then she spoke.

 

“It’s going to take me taking everything there is in those vaults,” she said, low but clear, “and defeating you in another duel.” 

 

Thomas just stood there, dumbly looking at her as any of a rational outcome to this conflict evaporated into thin air. He could not believe it. The girl was just outright daft with a skull thicker than a troll’s! He huffed as he stepped back from the box, and chuckled darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose to make ANY sense of the situation, but couldn’t.

 

“You’re just…” he tried, “something else.”

“Yes, now unless you want me to fall into these jars and give Snape a stroke, you  _ are _ going to let me out of here, Burton!” she ordered, and for once, Thomas was tempted to just leave her there, and continue to replace the jars himself. Her fault that she got stuck in the crate and in her ambition. But he couldn’t leave her like that. Snape would do _ far _ much worse if she fell into the crate and broke what seemed like thousands of galleons worth of ingredients. It would not be enough to be expelled, but it would be enough to ruin their houses’ chance to get the cup.

 

It was frustrating and infuriating, and he growled at the unfairness of it...  _ Unfairness. _ Thomas thought, and something that had been bothering in his head suddenly sprang up. “Why did you stall me before I could get to the class?” 

 

“What?”

 

“Yesterday morning.” he clarified, leaning into the crate to look at her upside down figure. She looked back, hands spread out to the tops of the jars to partially hold her weight and to prevent herself from falling further. “You stopped me and got us into trouble. Why? Did you want me here alone with you?”

 

She looked at him in silence for a second, before she huffed and chuckled, “Who do you take me for, Burton? Penny Haywood?” Thomas felt his face redden at the name drop. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

 

“Stop dodging the question.” he chided her, “What, do you want to duel me again? Is that it?”

 

She licked her lips, and was now looking away, causing Thomas to blow the air out of his lungs.  _ I bloody knew it!  _ “I should throw you into the box.” he muttered, and then Merula looked at him with a frown.

 

“Get me out of this crate, Burton.”

 

“I will.” he said, knowing that he should sooner of later, but stalling a bit might seem preferable. “When you tell me what you were doing.”

 

Again, the silence, followed by a mutter from her. “What was that?” he asked.

 

“It wasn’t supposed to go this way!” she snapped, but then her tone took a different mood. Weak and quivering. “Thomas. Get. Me. Out. Of. Here. These jars are about to topple.”

 

Thomas looked at her hands then, seeing them on precariously balanced jars that should’ve fallen when the house-elf had transported them. But the fact that the bottom was farther away than what its exterior made it out to be showed that it was magical, and if Merula did fall, then she would likely be seriously hurt.

 

“Fine.” Thomas said at last, and leaned back analyzing the situation to see how to go best about this.

 

“Don’t get any funny ideas!” she said, and Thomas could see why. Her skirt had inverted itself sometime during their talk, and he could feel the heat on his face when he averted his eyes of her rear. He was fortunate that the leggings went up to the waist, otherwise, he might have not had the courage to even approach. But he shook his head at it.  _ Focus! _

 

He immediately ruled out the legs and the waist -- not enough leverage to pull her out. He could grab her by the armpits, but she was too far… That left her abdomen.

 

“Right.” he said, breathing deeply, “I don’t think you’re going to like this.”

 

When she asked, “Why?”, he brought himself close beside her and leaned back into the box, bringing his arms about her stomach. “Hey!” she called out, and he ignored her, meeting his hands and clasping them before he began to pull.

 

It took effort to tilt her upwards, even if he spent his summers doing gymnastics back in his hometown, and he grunted as she finally let go of the jars and her feet found purchase on the stone floor. She immediately fell backwards, and Thomas found himself skipping backwards when her weight settled on him and her figure slipped from his arms, only to be trapped by her armpits.

 

The weight and cushion of her head on his chest brought him back to yesterday, and he found himself blushing at the memory, but thankfully, as he expected her to do, she brushed him off and stood on her own, scowling back at him with a face of beet red.

 

“This doesn’t change anything.” she said, face close to his and without blinking in what seemed like an attempt to intimidate him. It might work on others, but not Thomas. She had already made this move so many times before that it no longer even phased him, and the new height difference between them was working against her favor.

 

And it didn’t help that her eyes were too enthralling.

 

He brought his arms to hers and pushed her away, and she blinked, just like he did. “No, it doesn’t.” he finished, and stepped around her to get the new jar of Moondew laid out beside the crate.  _ Not worth your time.  _ He repeated to himself, grabbing the glass container full of the flowers with their trio of pale leaves. When he turned, he found her there, five paces away with a wand in hand and aimed towards him.

 

“Merula.” he warned, but she only raised her chin, face turned to stone.

 

“Draw out your wand, Burton.” she said, and Thomas’s eyes darted back and forth from the jar he was holding, to the exasperating girl, with only one thought in his mind. She was mad.

 

“Merula, do you know where we are?” he asked, sweeping a hand over the air to emphasize the room, but it seemed to only emphasize her indifference when she just shrugged and spoke.

 

“Snape’s office. All the better, right?” she smiled, but it was weak, not quite reaching her eyes as she began to step sideways and in a circle around him. “Snape won’t be back for a few hours still. So we have time.”

 

“Time we’ll have to make up for.” he told her, sighing as he settled the jar on the floor and retrieved his wand. As much as he hated doing this here, with  _ her _ , the idea of even dueling in Snape’s lair was nothing short of thrilling. “So let me kick your ass and be done with it.”

 

She frowned, “It’s been a while since we dueled, Burton. And  _ when  _ I beat you, you  _ will  _ take me to the next Cursed Vault.”

 

_ Take you?  _ He asked himself. “I offered that to you last year, remember?”

 

“Now it’s different.” she said, and it hit him. She didn’t know where this vault was. Last year, she had beaten him to the vault with the help of the legendary Iranian prankster, Tulip Karasu, and had flaunted that fact to him when he had needed to acquire a key from her.

 

“Merula-”

 

“Don’t ‘Merula’ me!” she snapped, and then seemed to compose herself. “You will lead me to it, defeat its curse, and then let me have the power in it.”

 

He balked at it, and he lightly shook his head. “And what about me? How can I search for my brother if you take everything?”

 

“We’ll talk about it when we’re there.” she said, then seemed to take in her surroundings. “No blowback jinxes or infernos. If we do then Snape will finally get the excuse he needs to expel us both.”

 

_ Thought the professor favored you.  _ He thought to say, but only nodded, readying his stance for the inevitable duel. They were both silent, following the rim of an invisible circle clockwise as they sought to see who would begin the match. Here, only the eyes did the work. Spells could be cast without the utter of a word, but the only thing that was needed was the swish of a wand to incapacitate someone. So his eyes were trained on her wand, also a pale shade that could’ve been made of maple or alder wood; for high achievers or those with anger issues respectively.

 

The hand he was looking at moved suddenly, a flash of light and he countered it with a shield charm. She sent another, and another, and another, while Thomas could only be on the defensive, as the charms he cast created a bright bubble around him that deflected her spells and curses. Always on the offensive, he remembered her to be. She was brash and hostile, and her spells reflected that as she gave no relent.

 

He waited for an opening, and used the chance when she faltered but a second as he cast the jelly-legs curse, but she caught it with her own shield. But it was his turn now. He went on the offensive, stepping forward and advancing as he sent stunner, curse of the bogies, and even reducto, among others at her, but Merula’s defenses held as she slowly retreated.

 

He only needed her to slip up once, and she was done for. Just like the last times they had dueled, she always made a mistake he could exploit, but her defense seemed flawless now. It had been a matter of time until she decided to perfect her defenses, and Thomas cursed in his head at her aptitude for magic. Maybe if her parents hadn’t worked for You-Know-Who…

 

“Rictusempra!” she shouted, and Thomas blocked it, and then followed it with a disarming spell.

 

“Expelliarmus!”

 

The spell skidded over her shield in the nick of time, and she waved her wand.

 

“Petrificus!” 

 

His wand was waved upwards to shield himself, and in that instant, a flash and then nothing. She stood there, and he blinked, confused at first until he tried to do a counter-spell, and couldn’t move a muscle.

 

_ Oh. _ He thought, when his unbalanced stall made him topple to the side, and he banged his head against the stone floor. He could do nothing against the pain, not even wince, and the cry of pain was stuck on his throat as he shut close his eyes. At the least that was the only mercy in it, to open and close his eyes at will. Without any of his motor skills, like clenching his fists and scrunching up his face, or even yelling to endure the pain, he felt the sting as some tears left his eyes.

 

He blinked fast to get rid of them, hearing her approach and not wanting her to humiliate him like this. It was bad enough that he lost and she finally got what she wanted, but to see him like this? He took deep breaths, opening an eye when he heard her always-loud footsteps, and saw her boots stepping closer to him. Sweeping his gaze upwards, he found her smug face, towering over him when she suddenly sat on her haunches and pulled his wand out of his outstretched hand, pocketing it.

 

“Gotcha, Burton.” she smiled, this one of joy it seemed. It was a full-on grin as she looked at him, and it was probably the first time he had seen her truly happy… at his expense of course. No doubt she could see the tears that he had shed during his pain-driven stupor, and he looked away from her, feeling his face heat up at the indignation. When she stood however, he took a glimpse back, and found her without the smile and with her wand pointing straight towards him.

 

“Reparifarge.”

 

His outstretched hand fell to the ground, and he gasped, abruptly sitting up to caress his sore head. “Damn it.” he cursed, looking up at her, “You know, it hurts like hell when you bang your head and can’t do anything about it.”

 

“Oh shut up, you big baby.” the smile returned as she crossed her arms. “You know our deal. You will take me to your stupid brother’s vault and let me get all the power in it.”

 

Thomas chuckled, “If there is power…”

 

She pointed the wand at his nose, and he froze. “Don’t questions me, don’t snitch me to Dumbledore, and don’t bring anyone else. It’s just you and me.”

 

_ It’s a date then.  _ He wanted to joke, but held himself. He might come back to the Hufflepuff as a toad.  _ Rowan and Penny won’t like this one bit.  _

 

“So?”

 

“Fine, fine.” he stood up, and scowled at her when her wand did not leave his face. “Can I get my wand back?”

 

“After we finish here.” she lowered the offending wand and took a step back. “Now get back to work. Snape won’t like us to be late.”

 

His lips tightened at the order, but he was quite literally powerless. He stood there for a moment, looking at her and hoping for just a small sign of a sick joke, but this was Merula Snyde. She looked at him with a frown, bags shaded with dark makeup under lavender eyes, disheveled chin-length brown hair, and the loose collar of her uniform with its dangling tie. She was a mess not only to him, but to herself, and sometimes he wondered if she even took a bath. Merula was that obsessed with this quest, and it seemed nothing would ever stand in her way. Not friends, or enemies.

 

He huffed, losing the staring contest when he shook his head and went back over to the Moondew on the floor, and at last did the impossible task of replacing it. For the remainder of the chore, they did not speak again. Merula didn’t even try to bait him more, and by the time they had finished in replacing the jars and listing the spoiled ingredients, Snape had returned and begrudgingly complimented them on the work well done. And just like the last time, when they were given the dismissal, Thomas left as fast as he could from them.

 

It would be in the late afternoon when he realized that he had forgotten to get his wand back.


	3. Wayward Wands

Dinner in Hogwarts’s Great Hall was something every student looked forward to, let it be after a long day of class, or after a good weekend on Hogsmeade, and close to two hundred students gathered in this long and massive room, followed by the entire school faculty and each house’s assortment of ghosts. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin; they all nattered, joked, laughed, and sulked, with some whispers of ribald comments from the more senior students. There was the clinking of utensils as they ate the generous amount of food presented to them, and sometimes the clattering as one of they fell, and every sound, no matter how small, added to the cacophony of a dinner in Hogwarts.

 

But there were times when Thomas wished they were just loud enough that one couldn’t manage to make a conversation without shouting, and the outraged glares and hisses of his friends after he told them on the events of Snape’s office were already making him squirm.

 

“And she still has your wand?” Rowan asked, fingers pressed to his temples as he leaned on the table by the elbows, and stared at Thomas as if Dumbledore himself had defied his charts of probabilities and possible outcomes. The nerd.

 

“Yeah…” Thomas trailed off, uncomfortable by the piercing looks of Rowan Khanna and Penny Haywood, though the latter was not aimed at him. “Looks like you might want to change that list, Rowan.” he laughed to alleviate the situation, and failed when Rowan still kept his face of perplexion, while Penny, sitting beside him, looked just about ready to murder someone, especially the girl that just  _ had  _ to sit facing him from the Slytherin table. “Penny, please.” 

 

She turned to him, blue eyes alight with danger. “She ambushed you, Thomas!” she half-whispered, half-yelled, “And now she wants you to follow her alone? I won’t stand for it!”

 

“I accepted the duel.” he tried to be firm, ignoring how good it felt for her to be worried about him, “And I got cocky. Now I have to uphold my part of the deal.” 

 

“But she had to take your wand?” Rowan asked, returning his falling glasses to the top of his nose, “What if one of the professors finds you without it? There’s a ninety-nine percent chance that you will be caught without it on monday morning!”

 

“Rowan, I have one entire day to get it back.” Thomas exasperated, wishing he could slump into the bench, but instead slouched into the table. “I mean, she’s a bully, but it’s not like she’s going to hurt me and keep me away from my wand...”

 

“She tried to kill us both in first year.” Rowan deadpanned, and Thomas grimaced.

 

“That… was a long time ago.”

 

Penny shook her head, blonde and braided tails flopping off her shoulders, “I’m going with you, Thomas. Not only is it what you’re doing… well… bollocks, we can’t trust her to keep her word.”

 

Thomas laughed, “You have that luxury. I don’t.” he turned to eye both Penny and Rowan, trying to think of a way to dissuade them. It was because of his stupidity that he forgot to get his wand back, and now Merula sat there apart from the other Slytherins, with a small, but smug smile on her not-too-thin lips. He tore his eyes away from her to look at Penny, still brooding. “Just… try to keep this quiet. The last thing I need is Snape, Filch, or Dumbledore finding us with our pants down.”

 

Rowan’s eyes widened, and Penny’s impossibly so, skin turning red, and Thomas realized what he had just said. “That’s-not-what-I-meant!” he spoke quickly as Rowan bursted into barks of laughter, while Penny looked away as her skin blushed furiously, just like he could feel the warmness on his face. The both of them sat there in silence as Rowan tried to bring his laughter under control, hand pressed over his mouth as he snorted and hiccuped. 

 

“Rowan!” he called out, and the Indian boy managed to control his laughter briefly as he managed to stammer out a reply.

 

“You-you don’t have to convince me now!” he smiled and wiped an invisible tear, “Reconciliation sure is your biggest forté.”

 

Thomas rolled his eyes, and grumbled out, “You know what I mean.” For being smart and nerdy, Rowan began to have these episodes of immaturity ever since the third year, and no more than four times had Thomas been the target of these outbursts. He scowled at the indignity, and turned to Penny, who was looking away and not even trying to eat, “Penny…”

 

She turned to him, her face solemn and determined, “I’m going. I… I can’t argue this with you. Thomas,  _ you  _ can’t trust her word.”

 

“But I have to. I have to keep my end of the deal.” he countered, but he knew it was weak argument, and yet she didn’t pounce on it. Not even saying anything, actually, as Penny instead looked at her still full plate of food in a silence that was so uncharacteristically like her. She was one of the most popular girls in Hogwarts, introducing him to many of her acquaintances that are now friends and allies; happy, and sometimes even bubbly, in a good sort of way. And to see her like this… It was rare, but not impossible, and this brooding mood was only reserved for none other than the short, brown haired Slytherin girl with dreams of grandeur. 

 

Of course, being upset by Merula Snyde was nothing new. Not even those in the year below them can escape her snides and snarks. But this change in mood had happened after his blunder in the use of what he swore was an extremely common idiom… Was it the implication?  _ No.  _ he told himself,  _ it couldn’t possibly be that... _

 

Thomas sighed, and forced himself to ask, “Penny, what’s wrong?”

 

Yet again, she did not say anything, peeking at him briefly before returning to look and prod at her cold slice of turkey and mashed potatoes with her silvered fork. Maybe she was just at a loss of words?  _ Impossible. This was Penny Haywood! _ If she was outraged at Merula, or one of them, she would have made that known quite clearly, and seek to remedy the situation. Even Rowan took a notice of her silence, his eyes darting back and forth between Thomas and Penny in a worried frown, before he spoke up suddenly.

 

“Well, I have to go and use the restroom.” he smiled a mirthless smile, got up, and left the Hufflepuff table, and them. Seeing him walking down the aisle and dodging a stray ghost, Thomas laid a hand on Penny’s cloaked shoulder, and lightly shook her.

 

“Penny, come on.” Thomas spoke lowly, “It’s far from what I want, but I have to work with what I have.”

 

“You don’t have to work with what you have.” she said, turning to him on the bench and fixing him with a blue-eyed glare, “ **We** can help you. Take back your wand and break into that Cursed Vault ourselves.”

 

Thomas frowned, now his turn to look elsewhere, and not towards the Slytherin table. He shook his head, “I made a bargain. I have to honor it.”

 

“Don’t be stubborn!” she hissed, “This is Merula we’re talking about. How many times has she lied and fooled us to get what she wants?”

 

Thomas snorted, incredulous as he turned to her. “So you’re telling me to lie and fool her back?”

 

“If it’s necessary.” she said, and already Thomas was shaking his head. This was not the way he worked, and he wouldn’t deceive someone, especially a fellow student, just to find his brother.

 

Before their conversation could continue, however, the deep bongs of Hogwarts’s bells began to sound, signalling the end of dinner and the nearing of the nine o'clock curfew imposed on students. Penny cursed, and when Thomas turned to her, she was wolfing down her food in a rather very unlady-like fashion. He snorted again with a smile creeping up to his lips, though it didn’t take her long to eat what, in his opinion, was a very small portion of food before she was full, and stood up with him.

 

Where the other three houses filed out of the Great Hall through its main double doors, Hufflepuff left through a much smaller entrance to the side; towards the kitchens. But even before arriving there, the loose file of students deviated from the corridor, and instead went through an already-open passage on the wall that led to an earthen tunnel that sloped downwards. And like badgers, they went under the ground, and were greeted by the round room of Hufflepuff’s common room.

 

It was more like a basement, but a cozy basement, with its warm candles, multitude of comfortable chairs and tables, potted greenery and hanging baskets, high ceiling, and round windows which would filter in the warmness and brightness of the day, but now lay dark by the hour. The other students were heading off into their dormitories, watched by the prefects and ghosts to ensure that no student entered the room of the opposite sex, and it was there that Thomas decided to pull Penny aside, grabbing her shoulder and nudging her towards one of the seats in the far side of the room from the others who had also decided to mingle around the common room.

 

“Penny, I need you to trust me on this.” he said as they stopped short of the couch, “I will get my wand back, and help Merula get to the vault, just like what she asked of me.”

 

She stared incredulously at him, “You want to help her get to the vault? You’re mental!”

 

Thomas chuckled and scratched the back of his head, thinking that he might as well be. After all, Merula Snyde was something close to being an enemy of the state to his friends, and Penny was not that forgiving… 

 

“Maybe I am.” he answered her, then took a deep breath, and straightened his back and shoulders. He needed to make this clear. “But what is my word if I go back on it? I can’t do as you say and just trick her, Penny. That’s not me.”

 

“I know that.” she whined, crossing her arms and returning to a scowl, “I just want you to know that we can help you.”

 

“You can help me, Penny. But I need you to stay clear.” She huffed as she shook her head, and Thomas had to swallow a groan at her insistence. There were other students in the common room taking glances at them; couples and loners looking and hearing their bickering. “I just need one thing Penny.” he said, and she turned to him, still frowning with with those ice-blue eyes of hers. It’s always the eyes that got to him, and he didn’t know why..

 

“And what would that be?” she asked, her tone low to complement her solemn face. Thomas steeled himself.

 

“To trust me.” was all he said, and there were moments of silence between them. Penny, with her crossed arms, looked conflicted, and it hadn’t crossed Thomas’s mind that she maybe not keen on the idea of him being with Merula, but that was crazy talk. She was worried, that much was clear, and it made life so much easier to have a friend like her and Rowan. 

 

Her eyes locked with his this time, her lips tightened, before she sighed and muttered. “Fine.”

 

Thomas smiled, stepping forward and hugging her so tightly that she grunted. “Thank you!” he whispered with glee, setting her down and with some embarrassment realized that he had lifted her off the ground.

 

“I-it’s nothing.” she stammered, thankfully smiling at his newly-made blunder, though her face seemed to have flushed previously and was now recovering to its normal pinky-pale whiteness. “Just… make sure you come back in one piece.”

 

Thomas nodded, and would’ve excused himself to go to the dormitories had Penny not suddenly stepped forward, grabbed his arm, and pecked him on the cheek. He froze and lost his breath, watching silently as Penny rapidly retreated off into the girl’s dormitories, and from where he was standing he could see her ears were a bright red. She might as well have been sunburnt, but who was he to think like that when he could feel his face as if it was on fire. His heart was still drumming away when she disappeared in the ghost-guarded portal, and he brought a hand to caress the cheek that had felt her lips, a warm shudder wracking his frame.

 

Thomas didn’t know what to make of it. A good friend’s peck on the cheek before going to bed? Probably. But one thing was clear… He was not going to sleep well.

 

* * *

 

Merula couldn’t say that she was forgiving of useless idiots. After all, Ismelda was still in a rather weird and intense phase of Voldemort worship while Barnaby, while easy to sway, had come and gone so many times that she just couldn’t bother with him anymore. But Thomas Burton? She had managed to conscript him to lead her to the vault and first thing the dunce does is forget that she had his wand. She grunted, unconsciously shaking her head as she leaned into an alcove on the hallway and inspected the instrument of her troubles in the last four years.

 

A rich light brown, and well over a foot long, the wand was not that hard to look at. From the end of the grip to the point, it was spindly, but straight, and the length itself could be bent slightly without reaching its stress point. She had thought, of course, to take it into her hands and split in two. Just to spite him for all he did. But, to her chagrin, she realized that it would be counterproductive. Not only would she be accused of theft and deliberate damage of one’s wand, but she would lose her chance for him to lead her into the Cursed Vault. So she made a silver lining. A hostage.

 

She had kept the wand for the remainder of yesterday, waiting to see if Thomas would seek to get his wand back so that she could… dictate new terms. But there was no luck there, and now here she was, waiting for that idiot to stroll in from today’s breakfast. She had woken up early for this, thrilled in fact, to rub the fact that she had his wand on his face, and so she had eaten quickly and sparsely and then ran to her ambush point outside the double set of doors that led out of the Great Hall. And she waited. Bored out of her mind.

 

So it came as a relief when Merula spotted the dark-blonde boy crossing the open set of thick wooden doors, but it gave her pause. He was alone. There was no sign of the loser and the cheerleader, just him as he continued down the hallway looking as if he expected someone to jump him. And that was exactly what she did, when she made sure they were away from the other meandering students. She extracted her right arm from her sleeve, grabbed her wand, and as inconspicuous as she could manage, pressed it on the small of his back. 

 

“Keep walking.” Merula whispered, grabbing his shoulder with her left arm and guiding him towards a route she had mapped out yesterday. There was no scuffle, or even a sign of alarm other than a straightening of his back and a quietness that almost echoed his futile attempts to ignore her the day before. He just obeyed, and although she felt powerful to just order him around, there was a sinking feeling in her gut that told her that something was wrong. His friends weren’t with him, and Thomas seemed to have expected her, so she quickly gazed back and forth along the hallway to see if anyone was trailing them or keeping themselves out of view. She growled in frustration.

 

“Something wrong?” Thomas asked, and Merula glared at the back of his head.

 

“Making sure your friends aren’t following us.” she answered, poking him on his side just below the ribs with her wand. He doubled over to the side with a grunt of discomfort. “Quicker!”

 

“I am!” he whined, hand pressed to his side as he walked briskly and she followed at his heels, motioning to him left or right when the opportunity presented itself to throw off any would-be pursuers. She kept it up for something close to five minutes, and already the continuous fast pacing had left her with a break of sweat on her forehead and armpits; her sweater sticking to her by the dampness. But at last she reached where they needed to be, a plain wooden door like the many others in the corridor, and although the rest would be in use in any other time of the day, the one Thomas was staring down was often vacant for most of the year. She and her colleagues had used it to plan in peace, and now it was just her and Thomas.

 

A small smile broke out on her lips when she ordered him to open it, and he did as bid, before she poked him hard on the back to push him inside. Merula followed after Thomas as he caressed his back, looking at her with a suspicious glance, though she wouldn’t chance this encounter. She let him see her smile as she picked up a heavy padlock from one of the crates, and used it to lock the door. No spell would open it from the other side, and the key was only somewhere she knew in this room. A scheme and plot coming to fruition, there was nothing quite better than that, and now, here came the next stage of her plan.


	4. Bargains and Conditions

“I don’t know why, but I expected you to do that.” Thomas said, arms crossed as he leaned on a tall wooden crate, frowning at some point past her shoulder.

 

Merula Snyde snorted, “Don’t claim to know me, Burton.” she said, stepping into roughly where he was looking at and locking eyes with him. She had to make the point that he would not get into her nerves again. After all, she held all the cards this time. Merula fished Thomas’s wand from a pocket inside her cloak, and the boy’s blue-green eyes widened at the sight of it as she held it in one hand.

 

Thomas sighed, grimacing. “You told me you would give it back after we finished in Snape’s office.”

 

 _I wasn’t._ She thought, and said, “I was. But _you_ , Thomas Burton, ran away like a coward.” Merula smirked at Thomas’s deepening scowl, “And now, I think some changes in our deal are in order.”

 

Thomas’s gaze turned suspicious, wary as she twirled his wand around and paced the small room. “I think our ‘deal’ is good as it is.”

 

She turned to him, making a show of feigning ponderment at his words, only to give a chirp “No.” and smiled at the frowning boy. She was reveling in this, Thomas impotent while she held power over him. Better than those stupid fantasies. “I don’t think so. I think it’s actually in dire need of more stricter terms. After all, how could I trust someone stupid enough to forget their wand?”

 

A half-smile formed on Thomas’s mouth, putting Merula on guard. “Oh, I don’t know. I would better ask you. After all, you have two for friends.”

 

“They’re _not_ my friends!” she snapped, and growled, angry at herself. _You’re supposed to be the one in control! Compose yourself!_ Merula swallowed the lump and anger in her throat, and took deep breaths to address him. “They’re colleagues.”

 

Strangely enough, Thomas’s smile faded, an almost worried expression on his face. “Right.” he muttered, looking away and sighing. “I should have expected that answer.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, striding forward and getting into his face. “I’ll have you know, the last time I had a friend, she betrayed me for you!”

 

“I didn’t-!”

 

“Don’t!” she pressed his wand to his chin, “Talk back to me.” Thomas’s head was tilted upwards, staring down at her with pleading eyes. She exhaled, and stepped backwards. “Where’s the vault?” she asked, trying to keep the anger out of her voice.

 

Thomas peeked at her, rubbing his jaw before fixing his gaze downward, once again crossing his arms. “It’s… difficult to say.” he said, his voice low.

 

“Thomas Burton, don’t you dare say you don’t know where it is!” Merula warned, and Thomas rightfully grimaced at her words, looking up towards her and fixing his eyes on hers.

 

“We know where to look.” he clarified, as Merula had to rein another outburst of ‘Where?!’ at him. “It’s… well… in a closet.”

 

She was done. Merula aimed the wand at his head and approached him, already wanting to turn him into a rat and seeing if Penny liked to have to kiss a bloody weasel! “You…!”

 

“It’s true!” he protested, eyes wide and arms stretched upwards. “It’s close to the Ravenclaw dormitories - in a secluded hallway. Me and the others were getting ready to deactivate its curse before Professor Dumbledore could discern what we did!”

 

Merula paused, cocking her head and slowly lowering the wand, but still aimed at his chest. “I don’t buy it. Why didn’t you go through with it?”

 

Thomas sighed in relief. “Well… that’s the confusing part.” he began, scratching the back of his head. Merula urged him on with a slight rise of the wand. “It’s-like-a-void.” he continued at the sight of it. “The closet is somehow magically darkened to the point that no light can brighten it, as if it was sucking it all up.”

 

 _Void… Darkness…_ Merula thought, remembering the clues she had taken from the previous vault, and smiling to herself. This was exactly what she had prepared for!

 

“You stupid boy.” Merula chuckled out, elated at the prospect of being actually ahead of him. “You should have spilled that out first!”

 

Thomas looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Wait, you knew already?”

 

“Of course I did.” she chided, shaking her head. “After all, I’m not an incompetent like _you_.”

 

The annoyed look Thomas gave her was enough to satisfy that jab, but she shook her head once more, but then she remembered. Merula snapped her fingers, and scowled at him. “Terms!” she shouted, approaching a startled Thomas with his wand poised to do whatever she wanted. “I almost forgot because of you.”

 

“That’s not-” Thomas was saying when she held up the wand to his nose.

 

“You… We, are going to the vault. Now. Today.” she couldn’t help it. She was becoming excited!

 

His eyes widened, taken aback. “Today? You’re ready?”

 

“Of course I am. Who do you take me for?” she asked, with a little mirth in her voice as she held the wand out towards a stack of crates towards the corner of the room, and uttered a silent spell. A small rat trap floated out, flying rapidly towards her before slowing, and then placing itself gently in her outstretched palm. With a touch of Thomas’s wand, the transfiguration spell undid itself, and the rat trap transformed back to its original form: a small bronze key.

 

“Huh.” Thomas squinted, and before Merula could feel a tinge of pride at her skill in transfiguration, she realized that Thomas was not looking at the key, but at his wand. “Can I-?”

 

“No.”

 

“But-”

 

“But that’s part of my new terms, Thomas.” she interjected, grabbing his arm and tugging him to step away from the crate. He resisted at first, but if his grimace was anything to go by, he had no other choice, and she loved that as he stepped forward to her. “So now, be that stupid good boy that you are, and lead me to it.”

 

He grunted, lips thinned and clearly aggravated, but still obedient, the poor fool. As he began to walk towards the door with her in tow, he spoke. “You’re going to escort me like that in plain view?”

 

That gave her pause, as she stopped on her tracks and considered his words with an annoyance that always came when speaking to Thomas, but… this one had merit. The Ravenclaw dormitories were on the other side of the school, and if she were to trail him, then he could either escape, or rat her out to a fellow student. Thomas was looking at her, his face holding amusement, or perhaps cockiness at her stubbornness. Does he expect her to say yes? That she would have it all under control? Merula wanted to laugh. He would not play on her pride, and she would show that.

 

“No…” she trailed off, thinking of a way to escort him… or her? Merula’s eyes widened, and then squinted at the boy. _That_ idea was perhaps one of the most outrageous she had ever thought of, and she wanted to balk at it. She even wanted to curse Thomas for giving her that idea! But… if she wanted to do this now, she needed to swallow her pride. After all, she was capable, and if he even had a modicum of treachery, then she would make sure to petrify him and leave him in that closet. “Instead, you’ll be the one escorting me.”

 

Thomas was the one who balked, eyes wide and then squinting. “I… I don’t follow.”

 

She stepped beside him, and forcefully moved his right arm to lock on her left, and when she finished, she looked up at him to see his uncertain face.

 

“Got a problem with my methods, Burton?” She asked, to which Thomas swallowed, and shook his head. “Good. Now, let’s see how far up in the clouds the Ravenclaws are.”

* * *

Being held and poked by his own wand was perhaps the most humiliating thing Thomas has ever felt in his life. They were both coursing through Hogwart’s main hallways, arms locked and with Merula leaning on to him, like one of those couples from the older students, except their partner probably did not have a wand pointing directly at their side. Many of the students he knew and others that only heard of him through reputation looked at them with shock, astonishment, and bewilderment, and while he saw that Merula was giving a smug smile, Thomas gave them a sheepish one, hopefully one that translated to ‘Help me!’ in the best way he could.

 

Unfortunately, they were left to their own devices, and nothing stopped them as they neared the Ravenclaw tower dormitories. Here, the blue-cloaks gave them nothing but cursory glances, seeing nothing but a boy from Hufflepuff and a girl from Slytherin together and near their dormitories. Surely there was nothing going on here that might put them all in danger… Thomas was just tempted to scream that he was being held hostage. After all, he had thought that he would have been given back his wand and also some degree of autonomy to work with her. Not this!

 

But all Thomas could do now, was kick himself for being put in this position in the first place. He should have known that Merula would have thought to change their deal for the worse… And maybe he should have listened to Penny.

 

A sharp prod on his ribs and he hissed in annoyance and discomfort, seeing that they were right where the entrance to the Ravenclaw dormitories could be found had they known how to access it, and Merula cleared her throat. Thomas sighed, aggravated, and nodded further down the hallway. “The closet is further down this hallway. I’ll tell you where to turn.”

 

“No tricks, Burton.” she whispered, and when she moved, he moved, going through a throng of blue-cloaks before Thomas motioned for her to stop, and pointed to a deserted side-hallway.

 

“That’s the closet.” he elaborated, and retrieved an iron key from his cloak. “I can’t convince you to turn back, right? We were still preparing ourselves to go in and deactivate the vault before Professor Dumbledore could find out.”

 

Merula only rolled her eyes, snatching the key from his hand and keeping him on her sight as she stepped backwards towards the door, wand still pointed at him. “Don’t get any ideas, Burton. I will petrify you if you so much as sneeze.”

 

“I know you will.” he gave the dry reply, while Merula fumbled with the padlock, before something in its mechanism clicked, and it fell in a thud of iron clashing with stone. Merula then opened the door, slowly at first and keeping herself behind it as it swung outward rather than inward, while leaving Thomas to stand right in front of the black void.

 

It looked as if reality stopped at the door frame, with none of the hallway’s torches or magically-induced lightning managing to penetrate an inch of that darkness. Merula moved out of the door’s protection, seemingly content that he hadn’t been devoured by a creature from the void, but she still kept her wand pointed at him as she squinted at it.

 

“See?” Thomas began. “No trick.”

 

She turned to him, scowling. “We’ll see about that.” Merula snuck a hand into a pocket of her cloak, and slipped out a green vial of… something, leering at it.

 

“Uh, what’s that?” Thomas had to ask, and Merula scowled at him.

 

“This,” she held out the vial, “is Cat’s Eye. Exactly what I need to course through this closet of yours.”

 

“But, where did you…” Thomas’s voice trailed off when he realized the answer to it. “Professor Snape’s class on Friday.”

 

Merula’s smirk was smug, his realization left unanswered as she holstered his wand, uncorked the vial, and drank it all in one go. It looked to have gone down easily, but then she gasped, eyes wide and then quickly shut as she grunted. Her face tightened in pain, hands coming over to her eyes as she staggered, and Thomas, alarmed, stepped forward when her face reddened and the skin of her neck was pulled taut by her clenching jaw.

 

“Are you alright?” Thomas asked, grabbing on to her shoulders before Merula’s legs buckled, and he struggled to keep her upright. He resorted to keeping themselves on the ground, he on his knees while Merula lay cradled on his arm, head tucked into his shoulder. Her eyes had swelled slightly, and tears had smudged the eyeshadow onto her cheeks, but it seemed that the worst was now past, as her face returned to its normal pale, and her breathing steadied, if not still forced.

 

Merula’s eyes opened then, violet slits like that of a cat’s, bright and almost glowing. They locked on to Thomas’s for a second or two, before she scowled, and pushed him away, growling at the back of her throat as she stood up quickly and glared at him.

 

“What in the bloody hell were you doing?” she asked, palming around her cloak and already was Thomas raising his hands up when she found his wand and aimed it at him.

 

“Trying to help!” he explained, looking at her weird violet cat-eyes. “You were in pain.”

 

Merula was quiet for some tense moments, forcefully breathing in and out of her nose, before bringing down the wand. She turned towards the void, and then did she smile with a mutter. “I’m a genius.”

 

Thomas stood cautiously, arms still held up as Merula turned to him, and she nodded at the closet. “Boys first.”

 

He frowned. “Why? Wait, you can see through it?”

 

“Yes,” she said, exasperated. “And, because I say so, Burton. And if anything happens in there, you will get the brunt of it.”

 

“And if it comes from behind?” Thomas offered, but Merula only frowned at him, and motioned him with his own wand towards the portal. He sighed, and once more, did as she bid, walking past her and heading towards the blackness of the closet. He had to stop himself before it, watching the abyss with uncertainty. Cat’s Eye… who would have guessed? If only he would have asked Penny about it…

 

He felt a wooden rod tap his head, crisp and quick enough to hurt him, and he remembered the girl behind him, along with his predicament. He took a deep breath, and steeled himself, stepping forward into the arms of darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you guys forgive me if I told you that this chapter's been sitting around for like a month with only minimal edits here and there? Of course you wouldn't, so I have to say that I'm sorry. Like, REALLY, sorry, but I got caught up with God-tier Harry Potter fanfics like My Immortal.
> 
> At this pace, this fanfic will be done around ~2020! :D


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